Episode 10 revised mk4 masturbator
- 3 years ago
- 20
- 0
Laundry Room Masturbator free porn video
This being Masturbation Month, I thought I would try to do something to spice up my self-pleasure routine, just to mark the occasion. Although I masturbate all the time, I don’t really do anything really wild—not any more, anyway. But I wanted to break out of the routine—as fun as it is. One sure-fire way to change up your jack-off experience is to change the setting.
My apartment is the at the end of the building, next to a stairwell leading to the underground parking. Just off that landing is the laundry room—just a small room with a handful of coin-operated washers and dryers. For some reason, I decided that that the laundry room was the place for my new adventure in masturbating.
The room is available to the tenants 24/7, so I decided on a late night excursion to minimize the chance of accidental discovery. I chickened out on Tuesday night, but Wednesday night (Thursday morning, really), dressed in only hiking shorts, T-shirt and a pair of Vans, I descended the stairs to do the deed.
I was nervous as I slipped into the laundry room—unoccupied—but the idea of what I was about to do had me hard as a rock. When I was younger, I got a big thrill out of masturbating in places where I might be spotted. Even so, I was a little surprised at how the mere intent to jack off in public had my cock throbbing in expectation.
I had brought a small bottle of lube in my pocket; I took it out and set it on one of the dryers, then loosened my shorts and let them drop to my feet. Then the shirt and the shoes, and in less time than it takes to tell it, I was standing totally nude in the laundry room, sporting a hard-on that would easily hold up a bath towel.
With an ear listening for approaching footsteps, I lubed myself and started to stroke. The pleasure of my hand sliding up and down my rigid shaft was doubled and doubled again by the crazy fact: I was masturbating in a public place! I hopped up on one of the washers and reclined on the cool steel, still stroking.
I speeded up and, as I got close to the edge all veteran masturbators know so well, I backed down. I poured on more lube to get a sloppy wet sound as my hand flew up and down—that squishy slap of a hard cock getting expertly pounded. I jumped back down to the floor and grasped my tool with both hands; knees slightly bent, I rolled my hips around in a circular motion, pushing my cock through my clenched fists, in and out, in and out, in and out…
Was it ten minutes—twenty? I lost track of the time. My excitement grew, my heartbeat throbbing in my ears. I was consumed by the frenzy, nothing mattered but my cock as I masturbated…I jacked off…I pumped my cock…
I had been on alert for any sign of people approaching, but now I wanted to be found. I pictured one of my female neighbors barging in with a load of laundry and seeing me there: she gasps and watches in rapt fascination as I piston my greasy rod through my hands. I drove myself over the edge and, with a grunt as if I was lifting a heavy weight, I started to spew.
My knees buckled and I sagged bodily against the washers as my cock exploded, jerking and spurting my load of semen. My goo splattered on the dusty concrete floor, leaving ragged, milky puddles.
I stood there, slowly milking out the last of my jism from my cock in the afterglow of a really good cum, when I heard the sound of a car entering the garage. A second later, the flare of the vehicle’s headlights entered the room through the door, and I realized that it was parking right next to the stairs; its occupant would be passing the laundry room any second.
Moments before, in the height of my arousal, I would have welcomed an accidental spectator to my solo sexcapade; post-orgasm, however, was another matter. Public masturbation is an exciting activity, but it’s also i*****l in my state.
The car headlights went out and the motor shut off. There was no way to get up the stairs without being seen. What to do? There was another door in the room, a door I had never seen open—I didn’t even know if it was locked, or what lay behind it.
Luckily, the door wasn’t locked and I jumped through to find myself in a storage room which also housed the water heater for the laundry machines. Hiding behind the door, I listened to the footfalls of a pair of high-heeled shoes as they passed the laundry room and climbed the stairs. Once I’d heard the door to the hallway above open and close, I crept back out for my clothes.
As I picked up my shorts and shirt, I was amazed to feel blood rushing back to my groin. I guess the heart-stopping near-exposure had gotten to me on some subconscious level. I decided that I wasn’t up to another wank in the laundry room, but I did make one final crazy move. Instead of putting on my clothes, I carried them out of the room in my hand, climbing the stairs and going to my apartment nude.
Once safely inside, I rubbed out another one before I went to sleep. The following day, I was still aroused by the whole experience, and masturbated four times during the day.
My apartment is the at the end of the building, next to a stairwell leading to the underground parking. Just off that landing is the laundry room—just a small room with a handful of coin-operated washers and dryers. For some reason, I decided that that the laundry room was the place for my new adventure in masturbating.
The room is available to the tenants 24/7, so I decided on a late night excursion to minimize the chance of accidental discovery. I chickened out on Tuesday night, but Wednesday night (Thursday morning, really), dressed in only hiking shorts, T-shirt and a pair of Vans, I descended the stairs to do the deed.
I was nervous as I slipped into the laundry room—unoccupied—but the idea of what I was about to do had me hard as a rock. When I was younger, I got a big thrill out of masturbating in places where I might be spotted. Even so, I was a little surprised at how the mere intent to jack off in public had my cock throbbing in expectation.
I had brought a small bottle of lube in my pocket; I took it out and set it on one of the dryers, then loosened my shorts and let them drop to my feet. Then the shirt and the shoes, and in less time than it takes to tell it, I was standing totally nude in the laundry room, sporting a hard-on that would easily hold up a bath towel.
With an ear listening for approaching footsteps, I lubed myself and started to stroke. The pleasure of my hand sliding up and down my rigid shaft was doubled and doubled again by the crazy fact: I was masturbating in a public place! I hopped up on one of the washers and reclined on the cool steel, still stroking.
I speeded up and, as I got close to the edge all veteran masturbators know so well, I backed down. I poured on more lube to get a sloppy wet sound as my hand flew up and down—that squishy slap of a hard cock getting expertly pounded. I jumped back down to the floor and grasped my tool with both hands; knees slightly bent, I rolled my hips around in a circular motion, pushing my cock through my clenched fists, in and out, in and out, in and out…
Was it ten minutes—twenty? I lost track of the time. My excitement grew, my heartbeat throbbing in my ears. I was consumed by the frenzy, nothing mattered but my cock as I masturbated…I jacked off…I pumped my cock…
I had been on alert for any sign of people approaching, but now I wanted to be found. I pictured one of my female neighbors barging in with a load of laundry and seeing me there: she gasps and watches in rapt fascination as I piston my greasy rod through my hands. I drove myself over the edge and, with a grunt as if I was lifting a heavy weight, I started to spew.
My knees buckled and I sagged bodily against the washers as my cock exploded, jerking and spurting my load of semen. My goo splattered on the dusty concrete floor, leaving ragged, milky puddles.
I stood there, slowly milking out the last of my jism from my cock in the afterglow of a really good cum, when I heard the sound of a car entering the garage. A second later, the flare of the vehicle’s headlights entered the room through the door, and I realized that it was parking right next to the stairs; its occupant would be passing the laundry room any second.
Moments before, in the height of my arousal, I would have welcomed an accidental spectator to my solo sexcapade; post-orgasm, however, was another matter. Public masturbation is an exciting activity, but it’s also i*****l in my state.
The car headlights went out and the motor shut off. There was no way to get up the stairs without being seen. What to do? There was another door in the room, a door I had never seen open—I didn’t even know if it was locked, or what lay behind it.
Luckily, the door wasn’t locked and I jumped through to find myself in a storage room which also housed the water heater for the laundry machines. Hiding behind the door, I listened to the footfalls of a pair of high-heeled shoes as they passed the laundry room and climbed the stairs. Once I’d heard the door to the hallway above open and close, I crept back out for my clothes.
As I picked up my shorts and shirt, I was amazed to feel blood rushing back to my groin. I guess the heart-stopping near-exposure had gotten to me on some subconscious level. I decided that I wasn’t up to another wank in the laundry room, but I did make one final crazy move. Instead of putting on my clothes, I carried them out of the room in my hand, climbing the stairs and going to my apartment nude.
Once safely inside, I rubbed out another one before I went to sleep. The following day, I was still aroused by the whole experience, and masturbated four times during the day.
Aspen
- 16.09.2020
- 27
- 0
